


A Halloween Haunting in Hale House

by aeolians



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Halloween, Haunted Houses, Human Scott McCall, M/M, Panic Attacks, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Stiles Has Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 10:24:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2544116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeolians/pseuds/aeolians
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott knew that, eventually, Stiles would drag him out to the abandoned Hale House on Halloween to see if it was really haunted. Almost every teenager in Beacon Hills has gone at least once. But ghosts don't exist, so it'd just be an adventure with Stiles in the woods.</p><p>He couldn't have been more wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A History of Hale House

**Author's Note:**

> Challenged myself to write a complete Skittles Halloween fic and have it posted on Halloween. Within about a week I managed to pull it off! Huge thanks to my best friend Sarah (enjoliras.tumblr.com) for beta reading. This fic's dedicated to her.
> 
> This fic is based off the prompt "This haunted house is terrifying please hold me" from: http://lethophxbia.tumblr.com/post/98190262712/halloween-aus-deep-conversations-and-wow-i-wonder
> 
> This is an AU where Scott was never bitten. He and Stiles are still ignorant to the fact that werewolves exist. However, Isaac, Erica and Boyd (along with Cora) are all a part of Derek's pack. Derek's immediate family is still alive; it was a branch of his family that died in the Hale House fire in the 1960's. There'll be a panic attack later in the story, so heads up if that's something you want to avoid.
> 
> Enjoy!

Hale House had long had a reputation for being Beacon Hills' resident haunted house. Set deep into the preservation that had once been private Hale property, Hale House had been built by the town's founder, Josiah Hale, in the 1820's. He was a prominent landowner and an influential member of the town he had founded. It was his murder in the 1850's inside the house that first started the rumor that it was haunted after the murder was never found, prompting his ghost to haunt the home he lived and died in.

The house had stayed in the Hale family for many generations, and quite a few more family members had died there, although most were natural deaths. It was the fire in 1964 that finally did the house in. On Halloween night, the branch of the family that lived there were having a party when a jack-o'-lantern's candle somehow caught fire to a tablecloth, and by the time the family noticed from another room it was too late and they had no way to exit.

All eight family members perished in the fire.

Since then, the whole town believed that the ruins of the house were haunted and, on Halloween night every year, the ghosts of those that died in the house violently were able to return to the land of the living.

The Hales that who inherited the land and Hale fortune, the first cousin of the deceased and his family, decided to let the dead be and, rather than tear the house down and rebuild, decided to donate the land to the town as a nature preserve on the condition the house stays a ruin to remind people to always mind candle flames. Some say it was a morbid memorial to the dead and refused to go near the place, but most of the younger people in town usually went to the house on Halloween at least once in their life.

This Halloween, though, something was lying in wait for a couple of teens to stumble into Hale House in search of it's ghosts . . .


	2. The Inevitable Happens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles drags Scott out to the abandoned ruins of Hale House on Halloween after all the trick-or-treaters are gone. What could go wrong?

"Are there any more Reese's cups?"

Scott looked over to the empty candy bowl.

"Nope. You ate the last one."

Stiles groaned as he threw his head back against the edge of the couch. "The sun's not even down completely and we're already out of candy. This is unacceptable!"

The two friends were in Scott's living room, the last of the trick-or-treaters having left about ten minutes before. It had been a pretty thin year for kids, and Scott and Stiles had quickly downed the leftover candy and since Stiles was just going to spend the night anyway, why not binge on candy?

Suddenly Stiles sat up straight, grinning maniacally.

"We should go to Hale House."

"Dude, I don't think that's such a great idea," Scott started, shooting his friend a look, shaking his head.

"Oh come ooooon," Stiles wheedled, "haven't you ever wondered if it's really haunted?"

"Yeah, but I don't want to _actually_ find out," Scott countered. "And besides, ghosts aren't even real."

"Don't say that," Stiles said as he looked at his friend in horror. "Now the ghosts are sure to attack us!"

"Who says we're going?" Scott was grinning now.

"Me, myself and I," Stiles retorted, grabbing his hoodie with one hand and Scott's arm with the other as he half-heartedly dragged them towards the front door. Now come on, it's time to go all—"

"Scooby-Doo?" Scott suggested, butting in.

"I was gonna say Ghostbusters because they're more badass."

"I don't know, man. You do have some Shaggy vibes," Scott shot back, grinning widely at his best friend.

"Alright then, Scooby, you get to lead the way then."

Grinning like idiots, Scott grabbed a flashlight as they headed out the door and down the street towards the woods.

**—————**

As Scott and Stiles trudged through the woods towards Hale House, Stiles babbled on about how this was a rite of passage they were on and how he's wanted to do this for so long. Scott couldn't help at smile at his friend fondly as he warmed up to the idea of exploring Hale House. There wouldn't be anything there, but at least it'd be fun with Stiles there jumping at every little sound.

Soon they had to turn their flashlights on, the trees blocking out the last of the sun's light. Stiles was glad he had grabbed his hoodie, and Scott was glad he was able to reach his coat as Stiles dragged him out the door. A chill had begun to set in, typical for that time of year. And, soon enough, a light fog was starting to appear in the clearings of trees.

"You gotta be fucking kidding," Stiles muttered as they had to walk through a foggy clearing. "This is straight out of some horror movie. Now all we need is a werewolf to attack us and we're set. Any bets for who would be caught first?"

"Kinda hard to guess. Between an asthmatic and someone who flails and trips a lot, we're pretty much both fair game."

". . . good point."

The two continued on in silence for a bit, Scott nudging Stiles after a bit to break up the silence only to make Stiles slip on leaves and moss and go sprawling on the ground.

"Uh, sorry," Scott said sheepishly, reaching to help his friend up.

"Yeah, good going, jackass," Stiles shot back, rolling his eyes and taking Scott's hand. For an asthmatic, Scott was pretty physically fit and pulled Stiles up too fast, sending his friend crashing into him which made them both slip on leaves and sent Scott falling backwards. Since he still had a firm grip on Stiles, he came crashing down on top of him, knocking the breath out of Scott's lungs.

"That was your own fault," Stiles accused, looking down at his friend. Scott groaned under him, a branch digging into his back as he opened his eyes and realized just how close Stiles' face was. He sometimes forgot how much his friend's face fascinated him, all weird angles and translucent skin. Scott looked at Stiles' face for a few moments before he realized he still had a grip on Stiles' hand and that their bodies were touching in places that Scott suddenly realized that they really shouldn't be right now.

Luckily, Stiles shoved himself up quickly and turned around shouting over his shoulder, "You can get up yourself. I'm not having you knock the wind out of me by throwing me on the ground. Again."

Scott's mind went somewhere it really shouldn't at that.

Taking a breath, Scott got up followed his friend. They didn't have far to go before they saw the ruins of Hale House up on a slight incline, its blackened wood wrapped up in dead, dried ivy and backlit by the rising moon.

"Ok, c'mon, how can you look at that and not think it's haunted?"

Scott had to agree with Stiles there. It definitely looked like the sort of place where you'd find ghosts. He was always surprised to see how much of the house still stood after the fire so many decades ago. He was sure the inside would be a shell, though. And a danger zone.

Suddenly Stiles flailed and gripped Scott's arm tight.

"Dude, what the—"

"There's someone in there," Stiles whispered urgently. Scott shot him a look. "Second floor, second window from the right. _There's someone there_."

Scott turned to look and just as soon as his eyes caught the window he thought he may have seen something shift further back into the shadows.

"There's nothing there, Stiles," Scott said more casually than he was starting to feel. "You just _want_ there to be a ghost there to prove that it's haunted."

"I don't— It— Ok fine, so I want there to be a ghost there to prove it's haunted. That doesn't mean I actually want to see the ghost!"

Scott raised an eyebrow, not even bothering to point out how contradictory that comment was.

"C'mon, let's go."

Stiles gulped and nodded, finally letting go of his friend's bicep without straying too far away from him.

A few seconds later they stood in the shadow of the house at the front steps, which looked surprisingly solid. Up close, Scott was surprised at how well the wood had held up for a house that had been abandoned for half a century after catching fire and burning.

Scott turned to Stiles, who was already looking at him.

"After you, Mr. 'Ghosts Don't Actually Exist, Stiles'."

Rolling his eyes and grinning, Scott trotted up the steps to the front door.

"Ready?"

"Now or never, Scott, I swear to God."

Turning the knob and giving the door a bit of a shove with his shoulder, it opened slowly with a single long creak.

"Creepy front door. Yep, definitely a haunted house."

Scott ignored Stiles as he entered the house, Stiles following close behind, their flashlights illuminating the space around them.

Everything looked both dark and dank, dry rotted and decaying. But so far, the floors seemed to take their weight pretty well. They were in what once must have been a beautiful foyer, the wooden staircase leading up to the second floor still looking pretty solid, all things considered.

"Let's check out over here," Scott said, pointing his flashlight through a wide doorway to their left. Entering, Scott shone his light around. "Looks like it was probably the living room."

"Parlor, actually," Stiles amended. "When it was built it would have been a parlor. They didn't have living rooms back when this place was built."

Scott stopped and gave Stiles a _what the hell are you talking about_ look.

"What? You pick up a few things about large fancy houses when you hang out with Lydia. Comes with the territory."

"Uh-huh."

"Shut up, asshole," Stiles shot back, playfully shoving his best friend before they went back to looking around the room. There was a wide black hole in the middle of the floor, but the room was so large that there was plenty of space to walk around it. Stiles poked part of the wall where a huge network of cracks spiderwebbed across it, which made the plaster fall off in a cloud of dust.

Which, of course, made Stiles jump back and shriek.

Scott burst out laughing at his friend, which turned to coughs when the cloud of dust shifted towards him.

"Come on, let's check out more of the house. Pretty sure you just scared off any ghosts that would be in this room, Stiles."

Stiles rolled his eyes but headed towards the door, Scott following in his footsteps.

Neither one turned around in time to see the hand reach up from out of the black hole.


	3. Trapped In Hale House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Stiles find themselves trapped in Hale House, and they really hope it's actually haunted and they're not trapped in there with a murderer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Stiles has his panic attack in this chapter. See the notes at the end of the chapter for more on this.

Scott and Stiles searched the entire first floor without much further incident. The last room to check out was the one directly across from the first room they had entered. This one had a door that hung crookedly on one remaining hinge. Stepping around the door they realized that this had to have been a library before the fire. Large, built-in bookcases lined the walls, many of the shelves sitting crooked in the remnants of brackets, and some were missing altogether. A window facing the front yard was broken, and the shelves near it were choked with dead vines of ivy. A large mantelpiece stood on the opposite wall was choked with dead vines crawling down the chimney chute.

"All we need is a secret passage behind one of these and we'll have all the horror tropes checked off."

Scott made a sound of agreement as they poked around the room. A minute or so passed before Scott turned to Stiles.

"What'd you say?"

Stiles gave his friend a confused look. "What?"

"What'd you say a second ago?"

"Nothing?"

"I definitely just heard you say something, Stiles."

"Maybe it's the ghosts," Stiles said half jokingly.

Before Scott could reply, though, Scott heard something again.

But Stiles' lips hadn't moved. His eyes did get wide, though.

"Scott."

"Did you hear that," Scott asked in a hushed whisper.

Stiles nodded his head, and both friends stayed silent to listen. A minute went by with both friends looking at each other and around the room in the silence. They were just about to breathe a sigh of relief when suddenly a loud scraping sound came from the bookcase next to the fireplace. Stiles and Scott whipped around to shine their lights on it.

It was _opening_.

They wasted no time in running out of the room to the front door, Scott yanking on the doorknob, which stayed shut.

"Scott!"

"I'm trying!"

Stiles pushed Scott out of the way and yanked at the door himself before suddenly stopping and turning to Scott.

"It's not just stuck, Scott. It's _locked_."

"What?!"

A moan issued from the library and the looked at each other in horror.

"Stairs," Scott whispered, trying to run to them as silently as possible.

"This is the worst idea possible, oh my God go faster," Stiles hissed back as he followed up the stairs, nearly tripping twice.

The two looked both ways on the landing before diving into the first room on the right and locking the door behind them.

Panting a bit more out of fear than anything, the two looked at each other, each recognizing their own fear in the others face.

"Now do you believe that it's haunted," Stiles asked, his hands on his knees.

"More like I'm hoping that it's haunted because I really hope that wasn't a real person who has us locked up in the ruins of an old house in the middle of the preserve."

Stiles looked at Scott, fresh horror on his face. "Shit. I didn't even think of that. Fuck."

Scott could only nod.

The two stood in the room, not hearing anything else from downstairs as they listened for signs of movement.

"You know, for a house that's so old and a burnt out, abandoned shell, the floor is surprisingly sturdy," Stiles commented after some time had past. By this time he was wandering around the sparse room, the rotting remains of a wood-slat bed and a corner wardrobe being the only things in the room. Curiosity soon won him over as he headed over to look in the old wardrobe. As soon as he opened it, though, he let out a blood-curdling scream he couldn't keep in before he was able to slap a hand on his mouth as he stumbled backwards as fast as he could.

"Stiles, what the hell are you—" Scott cut himself off as he saw what was in the wardrobe and realized why Stiles had screamed.

A skeleton was laying on the floor of the wardrobe in a crumpled heap.

Scott slammed the wardrobe shut and ran to his friend, pulling him up from were he was half slumped down on the floor in the opposite corner.

"Stiles, we need to move. _Now_."

Dragging Stiles by the arm, Scott made his way to the door and peered out it towards the stairs. He heard nothing, but he knew that whoever, or whatever, was downstairs probably heard Stiles scream and would soon come upstairs. Looking in the other direction, Scott could just make out an alcove at the end of the hall. Turning back to Stiles again, he jerked his head towards that end of the hallway and started making his way down there as fast and as silently as he could, Stiles moving a bit slower behind him.

Scott wasn't sure what they would find when they reached the alcove, but he was relieved to find that it was a set of stairs leading back downstairs. Hoping it'd lead to a way out of this hell house, Scott started gently going down a step at a time, each tread making the step under him creak and bend. He was almost at the bottom when his foot went through a step, his leg going straight through up to the knee. Scott cussed and started pulling his leg out, Stiles putting his arms around his waist and trying to help pull him out. If they weren't possibly running for their lives, Scott probably would have leaned back into Stiles if he was brave enough to try it.

They had his leg about halfway free when Scott gave a shout, his leg going right back into the hole.

"Scott, what the—"

"Something grabbed me! Someone's got a hold of my ankle!"

Stiles blanched and gripped around Scott's waist even tighter, pulling as hard as he possibly could as Scott wildly jerked his leg until whatever was holding his ankle let go, his leg finally free of the hole.

They lept the last few stairs and ran into what was left of the kitchen. Its roof was mostly gone, but all of the walls still stood. It looked like the kitchen was a later addition to the house, replacing what must have been a very primitive one from when the house was originally built.

Stiles made his way to the back door, trying the doorknob and trying to throw his weight against while Scott leaned back against the rotting counter, trying to catch his breath.

"Is it locked?"

"Of course it's locked, because why wouldn't the kitchen door of a house that's been abandoned for decades be locked? Have to be prepared to murder some teens at any time, right? I mean, who knows when someone might come to just poke around with no plans to get completely terrorized? God forbid teens act like teens—"

"Stiles . . ."

"Seriously, who the hell wouldn't lock two teens into an abandoned house with ridiculously sturdy floors and walls? It was bound to happen sometime, right? We just got lucky and we're the ones who are gonna die, and . . ."

Scott watched his friend as he talked, watching him get more and more frantic and listening to him talk faster and faster until finally he cut himself off, his eyes wide and his mouth moving without anything coming out. Stiles took a step forward, swayed, and slumped down to the ground again, his breathing hard, harsh, and too short.

Stiles was having a panic attack.

Scott had seen him have one before, back when his mom had died. Scott didn't know what to do back then besides hold Stiles and to run and get the sheriff. But Scott knew what to do now.

Moving over to his friend, he grabbed Stiles' face in his hands and looked directly in his eyes. "Stiles. Stiles, you gotta listen to me, listen to my voice. I need you to calm down, ok man? I need you to take deep breaths for me. You need to slow your breathing. Can you do that for me?"

Scott swiped a thumb across Stiles's cheekbone and Stiles, through all of his panicking, seemed to latch on to that and was able to nod his head.

"Ok. Breathe with me, Stiles. In . . . and out. In . . . and out."

Scott could see Stiles trying, but it wasn't really helping because try as he might he couldn't get his breathing under control. Scott's mind raced to figure out what to do when he remembered something Sheriff Stilinski had once told him: a shock can help cut off a panic attack. Scott looked around, trying to think of something he could do when he felt Stiles reach out and grab the front of his shirt tightly. Looking at his friend in the eyes, he suddenly had an idea that he prayed would work. Grabbing Stiles' neck to brace himself, he leaned in fast, locking his lips on Stiles'.

Scott was kissing Stiles.

He felt Stiles' lips still under his, still parted slightly. Scott press harder than he meant to against his friend's lips, but it seemed to be working; Stiles was stilling beneath him, and Scott could feel the puffs of air coming out of Stiles' nose slowing down and evening out. Scott's shoulders sagged as he let out a breath of relief, the vibration of his lips making Stiles let out a strangled, cut-off moan.

Scott's eye shot open—when had he closed them?—as he quickly backed up from Stiles to give him space, which made Stiles lose his grip on Scott's shirt as he stood. Stiles looked at Scott without blinking, his mouth still parted and glistening.

"Sorry, I know I shouldn't have but you were having a panic attack and I remembered your dad saying that a shock can force someone having a panic attack to stop and focus their breathing and it's all I could think of—"

"It's ok."

Scott looked down at his friend who was still on the ground. "I . . . what?"

"Scott, man, you just ended my panic attack. I'd say kissing me is a pretty efficient way to do that." Grinning, Stiles, looked down slightly. "I'd say it was also the highlight of your evening, too."

Scott opened his mouth to reply to the smart-alec comment when he realized what he hadn't before. He was so caught up in trying to help Stiles that he hadn't even noticed how his body had naturally reacted to kissing someone.

Looking down, he cursed internally at the obvious bulge in his jeans.

"Looks like you enjoyed my panic attack a bit too much, man."

Scott could here the mocking smile in Stiles' voice and refused to look at him, his face flushing. But there was something else in Stiles's voice, too.

Fondness.

"Hey," Stiles said, finally getting up and putting a hand on Scott's shoulder. "It's ok, buddy. I mean, I know I'm irresistible and all, but it's just a natural reaction, right? It happens. It doesn't mean anything."

Scott looked up at that, realizing that the tone of Stiles' voice had shifted into something almost remorseful. They looked at each other in the eyes for a few moments, communicating so much more through looks than they could ever say out loud.

"Stiles—"

Scott was cut off when Stiles suddenly closed the gap between them, crashing the lips together with too much force and too much eagerness, clacking their teeth together. Scott grabbed Stiles' face to steady him, grinning as he kissed him back, tilting his head so they'd fit together perfectly. Stiles whined when Scott nipped his lip, swiping his tongue over it after.

Kissing Stiles was better than Scott could have ever imagined. His lips were ridiculously soft and parted easily. Stiles, on the other hand, found that Scott's lips were ridiculously perfect for sucking on and his mind wandered to thinking of exactly where he wanted those lips.

Tentatively wrapping an arm around Stiles' waist, Scott slid his tongue into Stiles' mouth after Stiles moaned into his mouth, both of them picking up speed.

When Stiles pressed himself up against Scott, his hand pressed against his friend's chest, Scott could feel just how much Stiles was enjoying this. He pulled away suddenly, leaving Stiles looking up at him with an arched eyebrow.

"I, uh, guess I wasn't the only one who liked that, huh."

Stiles watched Scott look down towards the front of Stiles' jeans and look back up nervously, make Stiles laugh. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Holy crap, I just made out with my best friend."

"Hell yeah you did," Stiles said, laughing again. "And you can do it again as soon as we get out of here."

"Oh. Right," Scott said, looking around. It looked like there best shot was to head down the hall back towards the front of the house and the front door, even if they had to break down a window. "Come on," Scott added, grabbing Stiles' hand and lacing their fingers together.

Stiles grinned as they way their way out of the kitchen, each of them looking around in every direction. Soon they were in the front hall . . .

. . . and the front door was wide open.

Scott and Stiles shared one look before they squeezed each other's hands and bolted to the door and down the steps, Stiles nearly falling face first in the leaves at the bottom. Scrambling to catch his balance, he and Scott raced across the clearing in front of the house before realizing they had left their flashlights somewhere in the house. Pulling out their cellphones for light, the two broke into the edge of the tree line before screeching to a halt.

Someone was standing in the shadows in front of them.

"Son of a—"

Scott cut Stiles off with a reassuring look as he placed himself in front of his best friend, determined to protect him from the person blocking their path.

"What do you want?"

The shadow took a step towards them, the light from Scott's cell phone revealing a man with broad shoulders, dark stubble, and a glare to rival Grumpy Cat's. No wonder he seemed to melt out of the shadows; he had on a black leather jacket, black jeans, and black boots, the only color being a dark grey henley. Scott could swear he heard Stiles mutter, "Holy shit," behind him, but Scott wasn't sure if it was because the guy gave off strong 'ruggedly handsome' vibes or because he was also giving off 'serial killer' vibes.

Hell, it might have been both.

"What are you two doing here," the guy finally said, glaring stonily at the two teenagers.

"We, uh . . ." Scott started, trailing off.

"We came to see if Hale House was really haunted," Stiles blurted, still partially hidden behind Scott.

The guy barely raised an eyebrow before looking past them towards the looming ruins of Hale House. Silence ensued.

Something clicked suddenly in Stiles's mind. "Holy crap, you're Derek Hale, aren't you?"

The guy, Derek, finally turned his glare back to Stiles and Scott. "Yes."

"Oh, so are we technically trespassing right now?"

"Right now," Derek said, turning to Scott, "we're in the woods, which are part of the preserve. The house you were just snooping around in, though? Still owned by my parents."

"Shit," Stiles hissed.

"Look, Derek," Scott started, pausing when Derek's brow furrowed further at the use of his name. "Um, we're really sorry. We didn't mean anything by it and we _really_ don't plan to ever go back there again. Ever. I mean, I don't know if there's people in there or it's really haunted, but . . ." Scott trailed off and Stiles slipped his fingers around Scott's. If Derek noticed or even cared, he gave no indication. But he did seem concerned, in a way, his brow furrowing as he crossed his arms over his chest and took in a deep breath.

"Why did you say that, about not knowing if there's people in there or if it's haunted?"

"Between the secret doors opening, whispers, doors locking mysteriously, skeletons in the closet, hands grabbing ankles—"

Derek's face shifted to surprise as he looked back at the house, this time in surprise. "Wait, _what_?"

"Look man, something's going on back there. I don't know if it's people trying to be a serial killer cult . . ." Stiles paused and took another glance at Derek at that, "Or if it's a bona-fide, Ghost Hunters-approved haunting, but we just experienced some messed up shit back there."

Derek was silent a long moment before finally deciding something. "Leave. Now. Just keep heading in the direction you were and you'll end up on the trails that lead to the parking lot."

Scott and Stiles didn't need a second urging as they walked quickly away through the trees, hands held tight as they left Hale House and Derek Hale further and further behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is by far the longest chapter in this fic, holy crap.
> 
> I want to talk about the panic attack for a sec. Personally, I have zero experience with them, and I know that Lydia "kissing away" Stiles' panic attack gets a lot of hate from part of the fandom, but others in the fandom have said that it has, occasionally, actually helped them get over the panic attack. One person pointed out that it was similar to breathing into a paper bag when one wasn't handy.
> 
> So that's why I wrote it like I did. No offense was meant to people who actually suffer from panic attacks!


	4. The Ghosts Get Unmasked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek heads into Hale House to find out who's "haunting" it.

Derek approached the ruins of his ancestor's house with care, taking a deep breath every few feet. As he got to the steps, he could definitely hear a faint murmur coming from inside the house.

Someone was definitely in there. Of course, it _could_ be a ghost, but Derek didn't believe in ghosts. (That was always something Erica found ironic; a _werewolf_ didn't believe in _ghosts_.) Listening harder, Derek could make out four distinct voices, and instantly recognized all of them. Letting out a low, angry warning growl, Derek stomped up the stairs as all noise from inside the house cut off as soon as they heard their alpha's growl.

Turning into what had been the living room, Derek stopped abruptly as he glared at his betas. Erica was dragging Isaac out of the pit in the middle of the floor while Cora and Boyd stood just to the side.

The only one who looked truly scared by Derek's apprearence was Isaac, who whimpered slightly as Derek's eyes flashed red.

"What the hell do you all think you're doing."

"Oh come on, Derek," Erica practically purred as she finished hauling Isaac out, "we only had a bit of fun with some kids from school is all."

"And you gave one of them a panic attack!" Derek yelled back at her, his eyes shifting red and staying that way. "I could smell it all over the one."

Grinning, Erica scoffed. "You sure you could smell it over the heavy arousal both of them were swimming in?"

Derek growled out a single warning and she took the hint, backing down with only a roll of her eyes.

"Come on, Derek," Cora said softly, moving next to her brother, "we didn't mean to cause any real harm. We just knew that someone was bound to show up, and—"

"And what," Derek barked harshly at Cora, "you just thought you'd use the key to the doors to mess with some people, using the secret door to scare them, popping out of the pit, and grabbing their ankles? You thought that was ok to do _here_ where members of our family died?"

"Actually, I just raised a hand up from the pit. I don't think they even saw me," Isaac started, looking down quickly when Derek shot him a burning look.

"And the secret passage? Willing to bet that was Boyd."

Boyd nodded, seeming neither ashamed nor proud of it.

"And Cora? Erica?"

"I locked the doors and scrambled up to the west wing of the house, but they never came that way," Cora answered. "Erica was downstairs at the back of the house."

"I grabbed McCall's ankle after it went through a rotting step on the back stair. It was pretty great," she added, tossing her hair over her shoulder proudly.

Derek breathed heavily through his nose. "And who set up a skeleton in a closet?"

No one answered, but all of them looked at each other in confusion. Derek growled out another warning, but no one spoke up.

"Well?"

"Derek . . . I don't think any of us put a skeleton in a closet."

Derek turned back to Cora. " _Someone_ put a skeleton in a closet. The one mentioned it specifically."

"Derek, none of us put a skeleton in any closet," Boyd reassured his alpha.

Erica looked over to Boyd. "Yeah, but if none of _us_ put a skeleton there . . ."

Everyone left their shared thought unsaid as they looked towards the stair, the growing smell of dread starting to collect in the room.

"Which room were they in," Derek asked his pack quietly.

"First on the right," Cora murmured back.

Without saying another word, Derek headed to the stairs to confirm what he already suspected, leaving his betas to look at each other in silent horror.


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Scott finally get back to the McCall house, exhausted and relieved. But there's still something that has to be settled before Scott rests easy.

As soon as Stiles sank onto Scott's couch, he let out a happy sigh and let his head roll back against the back of the couch, his eyes closed and a soft smile playing at his lips. Scott was almost tempted to kiss that smile, but instead he just leaned against the doorway to the living room, looking at his friend with a fond smile.

"C'mon, Scooby," Stiles said, patting the cushion next to him without opening his eyes, "I could use some cuddling after tonight and I think we're allowed to do that now." Stiles cracked an eye open. "Are we allowed to do that now?"

Scott's grin widened as he walked over to the couch, sitting down right next to Stiles. As soon as he was seated, Stiles move so that he was up against Scott's side, his head on Scott's shoulder as Scott wrapped his arm over Stiles' shoulders.

Scott start running his fingers through Stiles's hair, making him make soft, contented sounds as he pushed into the motion.

"I don't care if I'm probably channeling a cat right now," Stiles murmured after a few moments, wrapping his arms around Scott's waist and hugging him, "This just feels really nice."

Scott made a sound of agreement, bringing his other hand to Stiles's chin and tilting his friend's head up so he could look him in the face.

"Look, Stiles, I don't know where you want this to go, and I don't know what will come of this, but . . . I just want you to know that, this? This right here? Me and you? This is nice. It feels _right_."

Stiles looked Scott in the eyes, searching his face for a moment before he leaned up to close the few inches between their lips, kissing Scott softly and slowly. The chaste kiss felt just as good to Scott as their making out had, and Scott knew they were saying so much more with this kiss than either could find the words for.

Pulling back, Stiles grinned goofily at Scott, softly knocking their heads together. "You know you just want me for my body, admit it."

Scott rolled his eyes, not even bothering to try and hide the huge grin on his face as he pushed Stiles down onto the couch so he was laying down before laying himself down behind Stiles' back and the back cushion of the couch.

"Is this sex cuddles or cute cuddles," Stiles asked, pushing back against Scott's chest. "Because I'm all for cute cuddles right now and I'm not sure I could handle sex cuddles after tonight but if you wanted to try it you won't hear any complaints from me."

"Oh my god, Stiles," Scott groaned softly, his breath on the back of Stiles' neck making his friend squirm in his arms. "Just go to sleep, ok? Mom's on the night shift, so just . . . go to sleep."

Stiles turned his head back to look at Scott out of the corner of his eye. "Ok. I can definitely do that."

Scott leaned forward on impulse and kissed Stiles' temple as they settled down into the cushions.

Within five minutes they were asleep, a smile lingering on both of their lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! Thank you for reading the first fanfic I've ever posted anywhere. Kudos and comments are welcomed. :)
> 
> Want to keep up with what I'm currently writing and get bonus scenes not included in the fic? Head over to aeolians.tumblr.com and follow! That's my fanfic tumblr.
> 
> Want a bonus scene now? Well, good news! I wrote two versions of the epilogue. One is this one included in the fic, and the other is much more nsfw of Skittles finally getting it together. Here's the link to the alternate ending: http://aeolians.tumblr.com/post/101451643970/a-halloween-haunting-in-hale-house-alternate-epilogue


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